A World of Darkness
by septimusjennashipping
Summary: Burdened by his grief and pain, Solomon's ramblings through the streets of New York City soon will force him to discover who he is and there is a home waiting for him: Camp Half-Blood. This is my first Percy Jackson fanfic. Please take the time to rate and review. It would be much appreciated!


The night sky billowed with clouds as a young man walked the streets of New York. He did not seem to notice the glare of the bright lights that filled Times Square. Shifting through the crowds, the man walked with purpose as he escaped the confines of the block and moved into the inner parts of the city.

Darkness. Shadows. That was all to be seen here. The man put up his hood as he walked in the midst of homeless men on the street and couples walking with cigarettes in their mouths.

"Hey, tough guy," a woman called out to him. "Looking for someone to share the night with?"

He ignored her. He stepped up his pace as a drunk passed by him, the bottle still in his hand. The only light in this part of the city were the fire that burned the marijuana into the lungs of the users. The man passed by them all, looking away in disgust.

He turned a corner and found the place he was looking for. He walked across the street and to the set of row houses in front of him. The man kept his pace as he walked down the side walk and up the stairs of one of the row houses.

The sound resounded in the road as the man knocked loudly on the door. The man waited patiently, but have a light shiver. It was early November and it was started to get cold.

A curtain in the house was pushed back by an old man who looked at the younger man standing outside. The man outside gave a smile and a small wave. The door finally opened as the old man ushered him inside.

"Sorry about that Solomon," the man said as Solomon inside. "Had to make sure."

Solomon stood in the small living room, although there was a small couch to sit.

"Don't worry about it, Bill." He said. "Not tryna stay too long here, so let's hurry this up." He motioned with his hand to show he wanted to get things done quick.

Bill nodded as he went inside an inner room. Solomon looked around the place. It was not unfamiliar to him as he came here often. He looked around and saw the same old pictures of a younger Bill with a woman and some children. Behind them stood the Statue of Liberty and she was the only one not smiling in the picture.

Billy came back with a small plastic bag with what looked to be some white powder.

"Here's the coke. 3.5 grams." Billy handed the small bag to Solomon.

"Thank you," Solomon said nonchalantly as he handed the old man a roll of money.

Billy unrolled it and counted the money.

Solomon looked around the pictures again. "Say, Billy, you got kids man?" He said looking back at Billy.

Billy looked up at Solomon then the picture he was looking at. "Me? Yea, but they moved out once I did my time." Billy finished up counting the money.

"Alright, you're set to go." He told Solomon.

Solomon walked to the door but before opening the door, he turned around and looked at Billy.

"Look, Billy," he started, looking nervously at him. "It ain't right for you to stay here man. You could get shot up or somethin'. You sure you don't want to-?"

But before he could finish, Billy shook his head and responded to him. "Solomon. I got nothing left, alright? This?" He looked around his room. "This is my home, Sol. I don't plan on leaving."

Solomon looked at him, curiously. "Sure?"

Billy grinned at him. "Positive, my man. Now get on out of here and enjoy the evening."

Solomon grinned back at him. "Alright, Billy."

Parting off with a handshake, Solomon walked right out of the door and back into the streets of New York. He looked back as Billy waved him goodbye and shut his door. Solomon waved back and took off.

A chill filled the air as he walked down the street and to an alley nearby. Standing next to a dumpster, Solomon took out the bag of cocaine and spilled some onto its lid. Leaning down, Solomon held a finger against one side of his nose as he used the other to sniff up the drug.

"Figured I'd find you here," a voice spoke behind him.

Solomon quickly turned around and, afraid it was a cop, quickly rubbed away the cocaine off the lid. He soon relaxed as he saw who it was.

"Jeez, Ana, you gave me such a scare." He said to the girl behind.

Ana walked up to him, looking at him suspiciously. "You've been at it again, huh?"

"No, no, I-" Solomon tried to explain, rubbing off the drug and hiding away the bag.

"No? No? Then what's this, huh?" Ana quickly grabbed the bag, waving it in front of him.

Solomon looked back at her, unblinking. He grabbed back the bag. "It's mine, that's what it is."

Solomon tried to walk out the alley but Ana followed him. She grabbed his hand.

"Hey," she told him. Solomon kept tried to keep walking. "Hey, Sol, stop."

Solomon finally turned around to look at her. "What do you want, Ana?" He said angrily.

Ana looked up at him, determined. "You need to stop this, ok? No more of this, I'm serious."

Solomon looked back at her, now annoyed. She wasn't that much older than him but she still acted like she was a parent to him. He reached behind them for the bag of cocaine and showed it front of Ana.

"200. This was 200 dollars." He told her. "I've been saving up for this a while. And you're not gonna take it from me."

Ana moved closer to him and looked into his eyes.

"Your mother wasn't worth a single gram of that disgusting drug," she spat into his face. "Do what you want." And without saying another word, she walked away and out of the alley, leaving Solomon all alone with his cocaine.

Solomon hung his head, glumly. He look down the alley where he just saw Ana and then back up at the wall in front of him. Suddenly, he turned and, with all his strength, threw the bag of cocaine as far as he could out of the alley.

He looked back into the distance and where he stood.

Darkness.

Shadows.

His mother's death.

Solomon looked toward the sky. The sun had begun to rise, and its light was spreading across the city.

Rubbing his eyes, Solomon made his way out of the alley.

His mother wasn't worth that bag of cocaine. And nor was he.


End file.
